PS 3523 
.E82 B8 
1918 
Copy 1 




uraen 



)rice,25 Qents 9lofaltf,^5.92 




f^ WALTER H BAKER & CO ■'^ 
fe,l BOSTON ■ *J,tV*i 



M. U3. Piwero's Plays 

Price» 50 £;cnt$ each 



TViV A M A 7nW^ Farce in Three Acts. Seven males, five fo- 
iOxj i:%illrUL\jr%hj males. Costumes, modern; ecenery, not 
dMcult. Plays a full eyening. 

THE CABMET MINISTER S^-, '^nJr/eJSlt: ^oT 

tumes, modern society; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening. 

1^ ANHY nif Jf Farce in Three Acts. Seven males, four fe- 
l/ilni/l i/A\^IV males. Costumes, modern ; scenery, two inte- 
riors. Plays two hours and a halt. 

TH17 r'AVIflUn AllfTY Comedy in Four Acts. Four m ales, 
ArlEiX^AI LUtW I^UfliA ten females. Costumes, modern; 
icenery, two interiors and an exterior. Plays a full evening. 

MIC IIAITQ17 IM A'91^ni7]l? Comedy in Four Acts. Nine males, 
nlD nUVOS^ m UtiUEIi four females. Costumes, modern; 
scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening. 

TIJ17 UAHQV UAI^CI? Comedy in Three Acts. Ten males, 
in£i n\JBDl niJSXDEt aye females. Costumes, modern; 
scenery easy. Plays two hours and a half. 

IRTQ Drama in Five Acts. Seven males, seven females. Costumes, 
SiViO modern ; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening. 

If AnV UAITMTIOTf Play m Four Acts. Eight males, s«ven 
LAUl DUun I irUli females. Costumes, modern; scen- 
ery, four interiors, not easy. Plays a full evening, 

1 PTTV I^^a^a in Four Acts and an Epilogue. Ten males, five 
Suxal 1 1 females. Costumes, modern; scenery complicated. 
Plays a full evening. 

TSI17 MAr'fCTIC? ATST Farce in Three Acts. Twelve males, 
in£i ifUiUZOifiillli four females. Costumes, modem; 
Bcenery, aii interior. Plays two hours and a half. 



Sent prepaid on receipt of price by 

Walttx ^. iPaiker Sc Company 

No. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts 



The Burden 

A Play in One Act 



By ^> 

'nU'ELMA EHRLICH LEVINGER 

n 
Author of Kid;' ^' The Lost Path;' " God's Fooi;' 
'' The Priest People;' etc. 



" The Burden " won the first prize in The 
Sinai Center Prize Contest, in Chicago, Illinois. 



PLEASE NOTICE 

The professional stage-rights in this play are strictly reserved. 
Amateurs may obtain permission to produce it privately upon 
payment of a fee of five dollars (^5.00) for each performance, in 
advance. All payments and correspondence should be addressed 
to the publishers. 



BOSTON 

WALTER H. BAKER & CO. 
1918 






The Burden 



CHARACTERS 



[^As originally produced by The Sinai Center Players j October J ^ 
igiy, at The Sinai Social Center, Chicago, III,, . 
under the direction of May Donnally Kelso. ) 

Mendel Rabinowitz, a ^^/^y^^r^r ^m^^^ . . Solomon Bloom 
ISADORE, his son ....... Earl Liidgin 

Sarah, his daughter . . , . . Helen Reinsberg 

Max Schuman . . ... . Harry Jackson 

Scene. — Living-room in a tenement on the East Side, New York. 




Copyright, 5918, by Elm a Ehrlich Levinger 

as author aMd proprietor 

Professional stage and moving picture rights reserved, 

M.a.R 12 1918 

©Ci.D 49092 



NOTE TO THE PRODUCER 

The stage directions suggest the ideal setting for '• The Burden." 
The hmitations of the stage equipment may make it necessary to 
make certain changes, none of which need lessen the general 
effectiveness of the setting. For example, if need be, the outer 
door may be situated in the right wall, while the window may be 
omitted, or merely suggested by a looped curtain. Again, the 
stove may be omitted entirely, the food being brought from the 
cupboard. The running water used in the sink may be furnished 
by placing a water cooler behind it, or the sink may be substituted 
with a wash stand holding a bowl and pitcher. Again, it has been 
found practical to have a half-curtained alcove which the char- 
acters enter to wash their hands, standing in the doorway, either 
to dry them as in the case of Sarah or when Mendel says the 
blessing. 

Only the barest stage directions as to business have been given. 
These may be made as complicated as desired, the action offering 
an ambitious producer the opportunity for various striking pictures. 

Great care should be exercised lest Mendel be portrayed as a 
feeble, victimized old man. He should be pictured in the early 
scenes as a man of quiet dignity, the master in his own household. 
He does not yield but remains superior to the bullying of the two 
men. When at last he breaks down before Sarah's grief, the 
actor should express a truly strong soul bending beneath fate. 
Again, there is a temptation to play Isadore as a heartless, 
young bully, savage even in his humor. Isadore, however, 
should be given in a whining, self-pitying key, the character never 
growing harsh or really aggressive until he feels that he is forced 
to fight in his own defense. 



The Burden 



SCENE. — It is about six o'clock or so on an evening in 
early spring. The living-room of the Rahinowitz 
apartment on the East Side has something of a hybrid 
air, being used, as the occasion arises, for kitchen, 
bedroom and library. Two doors, one leading into 
outer hall, the other into Sarah's bedroom and hung 
with a gay chintz curtain to match the one at the 
window. A row of heavy battered books on the shelf 
above the window, a clock and tzvo brass candlesticks. 
Between this window in the back wall and the outer 
door a cupboard withovtt doors, the white dishes ar- 
ranged helter-skelter on the shelves which are covered 
with pink scalloped paper. Along the left wall a sink 
and a stove, above the former a small mirror and shelf 
on which stand a soap dish and mug containing three 
tooth brushes, ' a roller towel hangs from a hook near 
by. Pot of tea on stove; an iron "" spider '' and covered 
stew-pan. Below inner door a small cane-seated chair. 
Along opposite wall a clothes closet before which hangs 
a curtain of flowered calico, a little soiled and faded; 
a box couch looking aggressively new in its alien sur- 
roundings displays several pillows, one worked with an 
American flag, the other exhibiting a wreath of flowers 
with the suggestion "" Daisies Won't Tell.'' Below 
couch a dresser with showy silver-backed toilet set 
almost crowding off the few ponderous and battered 
books. Rocker before window, cane-seated chair a 
little to right of table, with stands almost in the centre 
of the room, a large armchair behind it. Above the 
outer door a Mizrach in a wide wooden frame; several 
other pictures, one a florid hunting scene, evidently 
cut from a Sunday supplement, the other a popular 



6 THE BURDEN 

'^ movie star,'' A hybrid room, its most incongruous 
note being struck by the master of the house, Mendel 
Rabinowitz, who sits behh^d the table, a quill pen in 
his hand, his long white beard sweeping his breast. 
His eyes beneath his skvdlcap are tired and rather 
bewildered as though life has moved too swiftly for 
him and left him far behind. His is the face of a 
dreamer and a thinker, though his great shoulders and 
muscular body suggest the man of action. V/hen he 
smiles, his smile is the smile of a little child. He 
speaks with a faint foreign accent, choosing his words 
carefully, as though translating his thoughts from an- 
other language. His pen moves slowly over the piece 
of parchment before him. Deliberately, with almost 
loving care, he rolls the tiny bit of writing and slips it 
into the tin mezzvizah case. Sits for a moment, his 
shotdders drooping a little, his hands resting heavily 
upon the edge of the table. Smiles his slow, gentle 
smile, and, drawing another bit of parchment to him, 
begins to write again. The door is banged open and 
IsADORE enters. He is a boy of sixteen with a shrewd, 
quick face, loud of voice, swaggering and insolent, a 
product of our public school system and the well- 
learned doctrine that "" America's a free country." 

IsADORE {flinging his tin lunch box on sink and pushing 
his cap still further back on his curly hair). Hello. 
{His father nods a greeting and returns to his work; 
IsADORE washes his hands and face at sink, zvipes them 
on towel and looks up at clock.) Huh, Sarah's late 
again as usual. Thinks a fellow don't want his grub 
after working like a dog all day. 

{He goes to^ chair by door, sits there, hands in pockets, 
feet thrust out, mumbling gloomily, watching to see 
the effect of his grumbling upon his father.) 

Mendel {putting down his pen and looking up with 
a sigh), Nu, and what is it now again? Who has done 
anything to you that you look so brogesf 

IsADORE. Who hasn't been doing something to me ? 



THE BURDEW 7 

Vm too good-natured— thafs the trouble, and everybody 
knows it and takes advantage of me. You know old 
Biederman down at the store — the one I was telling you 
about — the one that's always picking on me? (Mendel 
nods.) Guess what he did to me this noon. I couldn't 
get to my lunch in time — had to stay in the basement 
putting away some boxes somebody else took down — but 
they're always imposing on mQ- — and when I come to the 
cloak room — my lunch box was gone. 

Mendel (shocked), Gonophedf 

IsADORE (savagely). That's what I called it — plain 
stealing, but old Biederman didn't. I Vv^as looking high 
and low for it, and that greenhorn comes along as big as 
life and gives my box back to me — empty. Oh, yes, he 
left my spoon iri it — he hadn't eaten that for a wonder. 

Mendel (puzzled). Mr. Biederm^an ate your lunch? 

IsADORE. Naw, it was this way : " What 're you doing 
with my lunch box? " I says. (Then, mimicking a high 
thin voice zvith a decided foreign accent.) " I'm. giving 
you the box back," he says. " But where's my lunch ? " I 
ask him. (Business of imitation.) '' Nu, I gave it to a 
shnorrer v/ho said he was a landsmann of mine." 
(With growing anger.) I said, "Why didn't you give 
him your own lunch? " and he says (imitating) , '' Nu, I 
had my own lunch gegessen already and so I come to the 
cloak room and take a box that looks good to me and 
give it to the armer Yid. He needs it more as you do." 
(Whining.)' Ain't it my luck: I'm half starved, and a 
shnorrer I never even seen before walking off with my 
lunch inside him! And what do you think Biederman 
had the chutzpah to say? 

Mendel (patiently). What? 

Isadore (imitating). '' Nu'' he says, "God should 
give it, once you should be as hungry as that poor 
shnorrer." " I'm as hungry as he is this minute," I 
says, " and if you looked half-way kosher I'd take a bite 
out of you to teach you to give away other people's 
lunches." (Whining.) That's the way I'm always 
imposed on, though. After working like a dog half my 
lunch hour, I have to go out and spend fifteen cents for 
something to eat. It made me sore, it did! 



^8 THE BURDEN 

Mendel (a little anxiously). But you got something 
kosher for lunch? 

Is ADORE. Herring salad. And not fit to eat. Even 
the waiters think they can cheat me. Why, I can't even 
go to a picture show without somebody trying to hand 
me a lead quarter in change. 

Mendel. Picture shows! {A little nervously.) 
Isadore, I want to talk to you about something — some- 
thing I do not feel right about. 

Isadore (already aggrieved). That's right — begin to 
tell me your troubles as soon as I get home — you sitting 
here sleeping over your mezzuzahs all day and me work- 
ing like a dog piling boxes in BlumenthaFs basement ! 

Mendel. This afternoon Reb Samuel came here — 
you know, my old landsmann 

Isadore (impatiently) . Well? If the old fellow was 
shnorring again, I hope yoil told him where to get off 
at. It ain't our fault, is it, if his son in Idaho forgets 
to send him his money-order once in a while? 

Mendel (slowly). It is not easy to have to live from 
one's children, Isadore. (Again showing eniharrass- 
ment.) But Reb Samuel did not come to talk to me 
about his son-^he was troubled about you, Isadore. 

Isadore (pugnaciously) . Now what do you think I've 
been doing again that ain't right? 

Mendel. He said that last Friday night his land- 
lady's daughter went to the picture place on Third Ave- 
nue and that you were singing there — singing on Shahhas 
like a regular Shegetz. 

Isadore (sullenly). Suppose I was? It was amateur 
night and I thought I might have a chance to make a 
dollar or two — nothing wrong in that, is there ? 

Mendel. Singing in a show on Friday night — on 
Shahhas! 

Isadore. What's your Shahhas got to do with it? 
(His hahitually complaining tone trailing into a whine,) 
Why should you begin picking on me when I'm doing 
my best to make a little extra? Can I help it that I 
don't make any kind of a living without doing odd jobs? 
Didn't you keep me locked up in that Cheder in Fine- 
stein's basement, jawing your Hebrew when I ought to 



THE BURDEN 9 

have been learning something that.'ud pay me now? 
And didn't you make me turn down two or three good 
jobs before you'd let me work on Saturday? Anyhow, 
I don't see why it isn't all right to earn a few dollars 
extra on Friday night with both me and Sarah working 
Saturday. (Walks to table and picks up finished mez- 
ziizah, dropping it contemptuously.) How can a fellow 
earn a living anyhow? Like you — writing scrolls? 
Why, you don't get anything but your dinky mezzuzahs 
to write any more — and darn few of them, and it's up to 
Sarah and me to support you, ain't it ? 

Mendel {patiently), I know that I am a burden to 
you and to Sarahle — and it hurts me. It is not easy for 
me to see my little girl working so hard. 

IsADORE {sullenly, sitting down near table). Sure, I 
could work till I got so tired I dropped on my face, and 
you wouldn't say anything. You're just sorry for your 
Sarah. It's me that brings home the whole pay envelope 
every week and she puts half what she makes on her 
back. But you never jump on Sarah, you bet — just 
landing on me for working and making an extra dollar 
in a show on Friday night, and never saying a word to. 
her. Why, she was there, too, Friday night, sitting there 
big as life next to her friend. 

Mendel. But she told me she was going to see a girl 
friend from the store. 

IsADORE {laughing) , Her ' girl friend ' she's been going 
to see lately is a fellow that works down in Meyerson's 
stock room and waits aroi^nd once in a while to see her 
home from work. Ike Bloom says he's a good scout — 
making good money and don't hang around with the 
bunch much. {Teasingly.) I knew she fooled you good 
and proper about him — after going with him all winter, 
too! 

Mendel. But why didn't she tell me? Maybe she 
was shy — even with her old father. And I stay home 
all day and hear so little from the neighbors 

Isadore. Aw, you don't hear nothing that's happened 
since the J^ws left Jerusalem; you're too busy hanging 
around the Shut on the corner or sticking your nose in 
a book. 



10 THE BURDEN 

Mendel. But how long has Sarah had this — friend? 

IsADORE. I guess it started about the time he took her 
to the cloak-makers' picnic last fall. You made such a 
fuss about her going 'cause it was Tisha b'Av, or one of 
your fast-holidays — remember? And when I met 'em 
at the Roof Garden a coupla times I kidded her into 
owning up there was something doing, and that as soon 

as he got a raise they'd hit it off together (seeing 

his father s puzzled look). Aw, I mean, get married — 
rig up a curtain and have big doings in Clinton Hall. 
But what's the matter with )^ou? 

{Staring as Mendel wipes his eyes.) 

Mendel. I was v/ondering what your poor mother, 
oleha hasholom, would say — our little Sarahle old enough 
to be married — our little girl 

Isadore (with a short laugh). You didn't expect her 
to be a little girl all her life, did you? (Hearing Sarah 
at door.) And, say, maybe you'd better not tell her I 
squealed — or she'll get sore and do some squealing on 
her own account. 

(The door opens and Sarah enters. She is a girl of 
gypsy coloring zvith a beauty that is at the same time 
wistful, for her dark eyes seem to dream of things 
she zvould he the first to laugh at; yet with a sug- 
gestion of flamboyant coarseness, heightened by her 
dress, a Grand Street imitation of Fifth Avenue 
from her feathered hat and cheap lingerie waist to 
her silk stockings and high-heeled oxfords. Her 
speech is slovenly, her laugh shrill; yet she is not 
altogether unlovely.) 

Sarah (throwing down several small parcels upon the 
sink). Hello, papa. Suppose you're both starved, but 
I couldn't help it — had to buy a pair of stockings and 
some gloves on the way home ; going to a show to-night 
and couldn't go with every finger and most of my toes 
out. (Carelessly.) Hello, Izzy. (Glibly, as she ^ pulls 
off her hat and coat which she throws on rocker and 



THE BURDEN I I 

begins to unpin her collar.) You see, I got a date to- 
night with a friend 

IsADORE (teasingly). Same 'girlfriend' youVe been 
going around with all v/inter, Sarah ? 

Mendel (with his slozv smile). Sarah, Sarah (n^- 
ing)j why will you deceive your old father? (He goes 
toward her as she stares at him bewildered and draws 
her to him.) You might have told me, Sarahle, that 
you had a chosan 

Sarah (drawing back), I don't know what you 
mean. (Angrily to Isadore.) But I suppose you've 
gone and told him^you're a beautiful brother, you are ! 
(Defiantly.) Anyhow, there ain't much to tell. Can't 
a girl go out with a fellow once in a while without having 
the whole family thinkin' there's something doing? 
That's why I never wanted him to come up here when 
he asked to call — and I hated to have him see this old 
place, when he's so — so American and everything. But 
he says he hates to be meeting a girl outside all the time 
without knowing her family; he's not that kind of a 
gentleman. (Mendel sits down, nodding; well pleased.) 
So he was bound to call for me on the way to the show 
to-night. (Bitterly.) And when he sees what old- 
timers we are— look at them curtains and not a decent 
piece of furniture in the house — I guess Izzy won't have 
to be teasing me about him much longer. (Unwrapping 
package and taking out a pair of white gloves, she looks 
them over critically before throwing them on the dresser, 
from drawer of which ^he pulls out a beribboned corset 
waist.) I'll just jump into my clothes and you folks 
begin eating without me. Max, he told me not to bother 
about supper and we'd go to Fegelman's Roof Garden 
for a bite before the show. (With satisfaction.) No 
movies for me to-night — a real show down at Keith's — he 
showed me the tickets. 

(Snatches a vivid pink silk waist from clothes closet 
and crosses and enters bedroom.) 

Isadore (calling to her). Say, what do you think 
we're going to eat — air? 



12 THE BUrMM 

Sarah. I bought some pickles and some bread in 
those bundles — open 'em yourself — I got to dress. 
Smoosing around so long, I bet I won't have time to comb 
my hair before he gets here. 

Is ADORE {going to sink and growling as he goes). 
Ain't it enough to work like a dog all day without having 
to cook the eats when I get home at night ? 

Mendel (half -rising) , I will help. 

Is ADORE. Aw, you ain't no help. 

(Unwraps and slices bread, takes crock of butter out 
of cupboard and is about to spread it with knife 
taken from shelf when Mendel rises in protest.) 

Mendel. Goy! The fleishige messer! 

IsADORE. Well, suppose it is a meat knife! (He 
throws it down, grumbling afresh as he hunts up another, 
with which he cuts and begins to butter the hunks of 
bread.) We're not living in Jerusalem any more that 
we have to be so kosher all the time. (Puts bread on 
the table with a bang as Mendel takes his writing ma- 
terial to the shelf.) Say, Sarah, where're the pickles? 

Sarah (from bedroom). Wrapped up — in the pack- 
age on the sink. 

IsADORE (opening a parcel and displaying a pair of 
stockings). These ain't pickles! 

Sarah (appearing at the door, squirming as she tries 
to bittton the middle buttons of the pink zvaist). Give 
'em here! (Glancing down at her showy wrist watch.) 
Nope, I won't have time to put 'em on after all. (Sits 
on chair near door, half-kicking off her oxford to survey 
the holes in the heel.) Guess they won't show if I'm 
careful. (Replaces shoe and springs up.) Say, Izzy, 
hurry and fasten this middle button — I never can reach 
it. That's a good boy! 

IsADORE (obeying with his usual growl). First I'm a 
cook — then a lady's maid ! (Retires to the sink where he 
unwraps the pickles, putting them upon the table along 
zvith the covered dish and the tea from the stove.) I 
ain't going to bother and heat the tea — it ain't my job. 

Sarah (as she goes from the sink where she has been 



THE BURDEN I3 

polishing her face on the corner of the towel, to the 
dresser). Drink it cold then. I guess Fm entitled to a 
night off once in a while. {Tugs viciously at her hair- 
pins as she stands before the dresser j taking down her 
hair.) I tell you Tm good and sick of working week 
after week and nothing to show for it after the rent's 
paid. {Fiercely.) But I ain't going to do it all my 

Hfe 

IsADORE {teasingly). Maybe you're going to tie up 
with your Max and try working for him for a change? 

(Mendel, who has gone to the sink to wash his hands, 
mumbles a blessing, and turns with painful eagerness 
to wait for the answer.) 

Sarah {sharply) . Stop your kidding ! {Consciously,) 
Even if he has asked me 

{Begins to brush her hair vigorously.) 

Mendel {in gentle reproach). I know that in Amer- 
ica things are different, but still he might have com.e to 
me and asked 

Sarah {flippantly, as Mendel and Isadore sit at 
table). Say, we're not living in Russia any more — in 
America a girl settles things for herself. {Uneasily 
before her father's hurt look.) Well, you don't have 
to look so sore about it, papa ! There's nothing exactly 
fixed, but when he gets a raise — and he said he might 
talk things over with you some time, anyhow. 

Isadore {grinning) . ' Then vv^e'll get married and live 
happily ever after. 

{Starts to sing ''Here Comes the Bride,'' beating time 
with his fork. ) 

Sarah {harshly). Stop trying to be funny — it's not 
funny to me. ( With sudden passion. ) I wish I'd never 
met him — I wish I'd never wanted to be married 

Mendel {half -rising in alarm). Kindele — what is it? 
I was glad to hear of it — Isadore says he is a good man — 
what is it? 

Sarah. We might as well talk sense while we're 



14 THE BURDEN 

about it. Suppose Max does want to marry me as soon 
as he gets his raise and he's earning enough for the two 
of us 

IsADORE {rising in his excitement). You don't need 
to think you're going to ditch us altogether 

Mendel {not understanding) , But, Sarah, I can Hve 
with you and — Max, is his name ? 

Sarah {uneasily) . But v/e want to start out right — 
whenever we do start. Max and me talked things over 
a little bit and we want to start out for ourselves. I 
want to do things my v/ay — different from^ now. We 
thought we'd move up in Harlem — you wouldn't want to 
leave your old Shid, would you ? And Max don't believe 
in all that sttiff about keeping a kosher house; he 
wouldn't let me do it. 

Mendel {aghast). Not keep kosher! Why, Sarah, 
your mother 

Sarah, Yes, I know mother did — but this ain't Rus- 
sia. It's America, and the extra fussing about the cook- 
ing's been hard enough on me, working all these years. 
I'm glad to have a change; only I know you wouldn't 
be satisfied with our way of doing things; you'd never 
stand for it. 

Mendel {with quiet dignity), I would not interfere 
between you and your husband, madelle. And I am 
afraid his ways are not my ways. But you will make 
him a good Jev/ 

Sarah {impatiently). He's a good enough Jew to 
suit me. {Finishes her hair and opens couch to take out 
a long scarf, which she places with her hat and coat on 
the rocker.) But you're too old-fashioned to understand 
how a progressive American gentleman like Max ain't 
got much time for such stuff. 

Mendel {submissively), I know how the younger 
men find our Law a burden: I think I understand your 
chosan. But I will not trouble you; I and Isadore can 
keep on living together. 

Isadore {who has beejt shozving signs of impatience 
now hursts out vehew.enily). Say, I've got something 
to say, I guess. I want to get on my feet, too. It's been 
taking every cent I make to pay m.y share of the rent 



THE BURDEN I5 

and the grocery bills, and how do you think v/e're going 
to get on when Sarah stops working and don't give 
nothing ? 

Mendel {simply), I am sorry I am such a burden, 
children. But I do all I can. Hardly ever does a Shut 
need a Sepher Torah, and Vv^hen one does — (shrugs) it 
is a long task to copy a scroll ; and vv^hen the Shul is small 
and poor, how can I ask them what the work is worth? 
Surely, it is a mitzvah, to work as cheaply as I can. 

IsADORE {savagely). Yes; and all your mitzvahs are 
pretty hard on us ; we've got to pay for them. 

Mendel {unruffled). What can I do? It does not 
take long to write a niezziizah. I could write many in a 
day, but who would buy all of them? Only the old men 
and women like me care to have them before their doors ; 
the young people have no use for mezzuzahs — in 
America. 

IsADORE. Well, it's a free country, ain't it, and they 
can do as they please. Why don't you do work that 
pays ? 

Mendel. Didn't I open a Cheder and try to teach ? 

Sarah {from couch where she sits manicuring her 
nails). Yes, and you lost all your paying pupils in two 
months and kept on teaching those who didn't pay till I 
made you stop. It takes an American like Max to make 
the money ! 

IsADORE. I don't know about that. Down at our 
place they've got a regular greenhorn for night-watch- 
man ; he can't speak hardly^ any English and he's almost 
as old as Reb Samuel) and he gets his seven dollars a 
week, too. I'd like to see you make so much in a month 
with your mezzuzahs. Now, if you could only get a 
real job like that ! 

Mendel {half -tempted). I could read and study in 
the daytime just the same and go to Maariv before I 
went to work and {Breaks off doubtfully.) 

Sarah {disgustedly). Aw, it's no use talking to him, 
Izzy. Do you suppose he'd work on his blessed Shabhasf 
And no firm's going to hire a special policeman on Fri- 
day nights when their watchman wants to go to Shid. 

Mendel {with the air of one dismissing a subject). 



l6 THE BURDEM 

You are right, Sarah. It would not be possible. All my 
life have I kept the Law and it has been a crown to me 
and not a burden. ' I have been young and now am old ; 
yet have I not seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed 
begging for bread.' 

IsADORE {mumbling). You'd see it soon enough if 
somebody else didn't hustle around after the eats. 

Mendel {with a keen look). We will say no more 
about it, Isadore. Are you ready for the hrocha — but 
first wash your hands. 

Isadore {growling). Did wash 'em when I come 
home — always extra bother. 

{But he rises and is about to go to the sink when there 
is a knock and Sarah, who has been at the dresser 
for a last luxurious primp, throws down her powder 
rag and goes to the door.) 

Sarah. I bet that bell won't work again. It must be 

him {In a voice which surely carries into the hall.) 

Go on eating as though you weren't expecting anybody. 

{They do not heed her warning, hut sit motionless, 
Isadore, his elbows on the table, still sullen and 
resentful, Mendel in his favorite relaxed position, 
his hands resting upon the edge of the cloth.) 

Enter Max Schuman. He is about thirty, short and 
heavy-set, smug and self-complacent, a self-made 
man, very proud of the fact that he is American- 
horn and a true disciple of Progress — as he sees it. 
Dressed in a very new checked suit with a flashy 
tie and flashier tie pin. He stands in the doorway a 
moment, his quick, snapping eyes taking in the entire 
room and the family group before he turns hack to 
Sarah. 

Max. Keep you waiting long, girlie? Couldn't get 
away from the store on time — business is business, you 
know ! And by the time I got home and into these glad 

rags {Takes off derby which he puts down on 

dresser, sits on sofa, crossing his legs and renewing his 



THE BURDEN I7 

scrutiny of the room and its occupants.) Introduce me 
to the family, can't you ? 

Sarah {sharply in an aside to Isadore). Take off 
your hat — quick. {Stands a little awkwardly between 
her father's chair and the sofa.) Papa, this is my friend, 
Mr. Schuman. 

Mendel {with his grave courtesy), I am glad to 
meet one of my Sarah's friends. 

Max {with a half nod). Pleased to meet you. 
{With another nod for Isadore.) Oh, you're the little 
brother we heard singing the other night? 

Isadore {resenting the adjective and his tone of 
patronage). I don't do it as a regular thing: I work at 
Blumenthal's 

Max {pleasantly). Oh, yes, firm that almost went 
under when the war started ? 

Isadore {stiffly). We're on our feet again now. 

-, {An azvkward pause during which Sarah puts on her 
coat and picks up her hat and gloves.) 

Mendel {who seems to feel that as host he must make 
conversation). The war seems to have no end, does it, 
Mr. Schuman? Only this morning I was reading in my 
Tageblatt and it said — but maybe you read it — a fine 
writing 

Max {bruskly). No — I forgot the Yiddish as soon as 
I could. An up-to-date American that wants to keep up 
with the times hasn't got no time for such stuss. 

) 
{Flushes a little at his blunder.) 

Sarah {beginning to pin on her hat before the 
dresser). We've got no time to sit around and talk 
about the war, either. It's getting late. 

Max {pulling her down beside him). Yes, we have. 
Sit down a minute, girlie. I want to talk things over 
with your old man and we might as well do it now as 
later. I told you I might have a special reason for com- 
ing up to-night, didn't I ? 

Sarah {placing her hand impulsively on his arm). 



1 8 THE BURDEN 

You don*t mean that Edelheimer talked to you like you 
thought he might? 

Max {pulling her toward him and slipping his other 
arm about her). You bet that's what I mean. {She 
draws back embarrassed.) Aw, don't act so shy, cutey. 
You know you've let me hug you before, and I wasn't 
the first one, either! {Still he removes his arm before 
he turns to Mendel.) It's about the kid I want to 
talk to you. I suppose you've heard something about 
me and I don't have to tell you that I think a whole lot 
of her. WeVe been going around together lately and — 
well, we're not what you might call engaged yet- — and we 
don't intend to be neither, do we, kiddo? 

Sarah {svibmissively, bvit a little wistfully). No, 
Max, — not in the regular way — putting it in the papers 
and all that — if you don't care for such things. 

Max {with emphasis). You can just bet I don't! 
Pfui, a regular Yiddish engagement party with every old 
woman in the neighborhood saying ' Maseltov ' and cry- 
ing down your neck when she blesses you, and every 
old man wondering how much you make a week and 
wondering what the girl's father's going to hand over. 
No engagements for mine ! But I guess we're engaged 
enough to take a day off some time and take a trip over 
to Jersey and get settled for life — huh, Sarah? 

Mendel {puzzled as Sarah, playing with the plumes 
of the hat which lies in her lap, does not answer). Mar- 
ried in Jersey? We should go to our Shul on Houston 
Street. 

Max. What do we need one of your rabbis rattling 
off a lot of Jewish for? A justice of the peace can tie 
us up tight enough to last a v/hile — huh, Sarah ? 

{With a nudge.) 
Mendel {worried). But- 



Sarah {anxious to avoid an argument). Oh, there's 
plenty of time to talk about that. We ain't going to be 
married to-day or to-morrow. 

Max {wink'ng broadly). Don't be too sure of that, 
younj lady. JMarry early and often is my m.otto. How 



THE BURDEN I9 

long would it take you to help me pick out some furni- 
ture for that flat we was talking about out in Harlem ? 

Sarah (a little startled). Oh, stop your kidding, 
Max. {As he tries to fondle her again.) Ain't you 
ashamed — and in front of papa and Izzy too ! Now you 
know we weren't intending to get married for ever so 
long. 

Max. Sure, we couldn't risk it till I got my raise. 
Well, the old man came across to-day. Marsinky's leav- 
ing the first of the month and I get his job — head floor 
man — in charge of all the stock in our department and— 
{with a good pause that all may he properly impressed) 
eighteen a week to start on. {With a slight swagger.) 
I always said you can't keep down a man who wants to 
get ahead in the world. Eighteen a week ! That's going 
some, isn't it ? 

Sarah. It's just beautiful 

IsADORE {a little enviously). You ought to live swell 
on that. 

Max {more soberly). I think we'll just break even. 
It costs a lot of money nowadays if you want to live right. 
My poor old father w^ould have thought he was getting 
a fortune^ — with his five kids, too ! But if a fellow wants 
to live in a decent neighborhood and have the washing 
done out and maybe a shicksa by the week and dress his 
wife like a lady — well, it takes money to be up-to-date 
nowadays. Only I guess if we're careful, eighteen '11 be 
enough for the two of us. 

Sarah {a little doubtfully) . But father ( There 

is another awkward pause. She rises and puts her hat 
on the dresser, .fumbles with the brush, puts it down and 
crosses to chair across from Isadore, where she sits and 
faces Max steadily.) But what about papa. Max? 

Max {in all sincerity). How should I know? 

Mendel {hesitating). I do not make much money. 
I was saying to the kinder just before you came in that 
people do not want mezzuzahs to put up near their doors 
any more. So I make so very little 

Isadore {roughly, as he pushes his chair a little ways 
hack from the table and sits with his hands in his pock- 
ets). Not enough to keep you, and you know it. 



■20 THE BURDEN 

Mendel (doUbtfully) . If I could only get some 
Hebrew scholars again — a few boys to prepare for Bar 
Mitzvah. 

Sarah {glumly). But you couldn't keep 'em be- 
fore. 

Max {patronizingly as he lights a cigar and lolls hack 
on the sofa). Everybody knows you're doing your best, 
Mr. Rabinowitz, but you ain't the hustling, money-mak- 
ing kind, that's all. As soon as I laid my eyes on you I 
knew you was like my poor old father — all right in his 
way, but as old-fashioned as they make 'em. Say, I 
left home when I wasn't any older than that kid there 
(indicating Isadore, who growls out a protest at being 
considered youthful) just because I couldn't stand having 
him pulling a long face if I smoked on Shahhas or took 
a shicksa to a show once in a while. The old man meant 
well — same as you — but he just couldn't see that in 
America we do things different. And that's why I got 
on as well as I did — didn't have him on my back, didn't 
have no burdens, but could go ahead and be up-to-date, 
see? 

Mendel (bitterly). Yes — I see that in America we 
old men are always a burden. 

Sarah (wincing). Max didn't mean you, papa. Did 
you, Max? 

Max (with his air of heavy persuasiveness). Now, I 
don't want you to think I've got anything personal 
against you. I know how hard it is to teach an old dog 
new tricks. And if you want to be burdened with all 
them old laws and things that most of us young fellows 
don't know anything about — well, that's your business. 
(With the manner of his favorite lodge orator.) Let 
every man live his own life according to his own views, 
I say — and I should worry if they don't see things like I 
do and can't get ahead in the world. (Growing personal 
again.) So you know I ain't got a thing against you 
personally, Mr. Rabinowitz, when I tell you that leaving 
out the money question — and that's something you can't 
ever leave out, anyhow — it wouldn't do for you to try 
and live with me and Sarah. She thinks so, too, don't 
you, Sadie? 



Sarah (submissive, yet doubtful). Yes, I guess Max 
and me ought to start out by ourselves, papa, and you 
keep on living with Isadore. 

IsADORE (hotly). Ain't that just like you, Sarah — 
planning to go off and get married the first chance you 
get and leaving me to look after him. Think him and 
me can pay the rent and eat on my seven dollars a 
week? 

Sarah (flaring up as she rises and faces him across 
the table). Well, whose business is it to look after him? 
It ain't mine ! I've been slaving in the shop ever since I 
got my school certificate. Look at my hands — fingers 
all hard from holding a needle ! And ain't you the man 
of the family? It's your place to look after him — not 
mine. 

Max (pulling her back into her chair and smiling his 
smile of superior understanding) . No use fighting like 
that, kiddo. You're red as a beet now and you'll have 
to powder all up again before I take you to the show. 
(To IsADORE who has dragged his chair back to its place 
near the inner door, where he now sits, tilted back, his 
hands in his pockets.) You can see for yourself, can't 
you, that it's out of the question for the old gent to live 
with us? Nobody's expecting you to take care of him 
either, and we all understand the two of you can't both 
live on what you're making. 

Sarah (timidly). Maybe, Max, if we could only help 
a little — give a few dollars a week for father's board — or 
pay half of the rent like I'm doing now. I'd be awfully 
saving about our house and my clothes. 

Max (with decision). I'm not going to have any wife 
of mine denying herself things when I'm making a good 
living for her. We'll need every cent I make if we live 
like white people. I'm taking you off'n Hester Street 
and you're going to live like a lady, if Tve got anything 
to say about it. 

Sarah. But father ? 

Max (with the air of one conferring a royal favor). 
We won't let the old gent suffer for anything. (To 
Mendel, who has sat silent and bewildered during the 
wrangling.) I knew I couldn't depend on Sarah and a 



22 THE BURDENf 

kid like Isadore to fix things up. (Another protest from 
Isadore's corner which he ignores.) But rm a practical 
American business man, and I knew a long time ago 
I'd have to arrange everything, so ever since I knew 
we was going to get married some day, I says to myself: 
' We can't let the old gentleman starve/ 

Sarah {with a sudden flare of anger). I guess it 
ain't up to you, Max Schuman. I see myself neglecting 
him if he needed anything. 

Max (zvith lofty good humor). Say, kiddo, all your 
good wishes won't pay nobody's rent, you know. (Turns 
to the others.) And to-night v/hen I talked to the boss 
about my new job, he told me there was going to be a 
general shaking up in most of the departments 

Sarah (no longer pouting, interrupts). Yes, Miss 
Newman, our f orelady, was saying at noon 

Max. I got my news from headquarters ! Most of 
the trouble is Samuelson getting out of the firm and I 
guess most of his mishpocha he got in there will get 
out with him. ( With a memory of old wrongs. ) Serves 
him right, the dirty Jew! You know, he even got a job 
for his wife's uncle who came over several years ago and 
can't even talk a decent English? And the old fellow 
was timekeeper and drawing his ten dollars a week ! 
(Indignantly.) We ought to have some laws in this 
country to keep a foreigner like that from coming here 
and taking the bread out of the mouth of good hard- 
working Americans. 

Isadore (warming). I always says that myself. The 
watchman at our store 

Max (unheeding). He's fired, so I told the boss that 
I knew just the man for the place. (With a patronizing 
nod for Mendel. ) You see, I thought about you. And 
he asked me how long you'd been in this country and all 
that and said I should bring you down to-morrow ; and I 
guess from what he said that if he likes your looks you're 
sure to get the job. 

Isadore (gasping incredulously). Pa earning ten 
dollars a v/eek just for nothing! 

Max (hastily). He won't get no ten dollars a week 
for that job; Samuelson's wife's uncle did 'cause he was 



THE BURDEN 2^ 

mishpocha; but I guess I can get him six or so to start 
and that will see the two of you through mighty fine, 
won't it? 

Sarah {dancing over to Max and cuddling beside 
him). It's beautiful — just beautiful! And I'm sorry I 
got sore just now — you doing all that for papa, too. And 
now I can go ahead and pick out some clothes and noth- 
ing in the world to worry me (her feet patting the 
floor in her childish excitement), I suppose I'll have to 
be married in a suit, but I'm going to get 

Mendel {who has been nodding approvingly), I 
thank you for taking all that trouble for my sake, Mr. 
Schuman. If I can only do the work 

Max. Nothing to do but see that people give you their 
cards dnd then punch 'em for the right time. 

Mendel {hopefully), I will learn. I am not an old 
man yet and am strong and if the work is not too long I 
can read and study in the evening and perhaps make a 
mezzuzah or two — not to peddle any more, but to give 
to old friends. {A little worried.) But I will get home 
in time for Maariv every night? 

Sarah {leaning forward, a growing fear in her face), 
Maariv— your Shul again • . ' 

Max. Believe me that if you're working from seven 
in the morning till six at night for six days a week you 
ain't in the mood for any Shid. 

Mendel {slowly). Six days a week — Shabbas — six 
days 

Isadore {springing up). Now don't start any foolish- 
ness — it's all settled. ' Here's a job just thrown at 3^ou — 
easy money — and a way for both of us to get on all right 
without bothering Sarah or nobody. Say a few extra 
prayers on Sunday if you have to, but everybody works 
on Shabbas in America if they can get the job. 

Mendel {quietly), I cannot. 

Max {still uncertain). But what's the row about? 

Sarah {bitterly). It's his Frommheit again. He 
thinks because a few dinky tailor shops close on Saturday 
that your store's got to close, too. {To Mendel.) I 
suppose you'd rather starve — and let the rest of us starve 
with you — than work on your Shabbas. 



24 THE BURDEN 

Mendel {with the simplicity of a child). But how 
can I work on Shabbas? 

Max. I don't see why you can't. I know lots and 
lots of good Jews who do — why, one of them's a rabbi's 
son, too. 

Mendel. But they are not good Jews — their ways 
are not my ways. I have kept the Law all my life and 
now I cannot depart from it. 

Max {trying to restrain his impatience). Aw, listen 
to reason. We're not in the old country any more that 
you have to make your Judaism a burden. 

Mendel {throwing back his shoulders, his voice ring- 
ing out like a trumpet), A burden! Our Law is not 
a burden but a delight to those who love it. It is the 
heritage of Jacob, God's gift to His chosen peoplef. The 
yoke of the Law can never be a burden to those who 
find delight in its holy teachings. {His shoulders and 
voice suddenly sagging as he feels the alien atmosphere 
of the room, his eyes lowering before Max's half sneer.) 
No, the Law is not a burden to the children of the cove- 
nant ; but we, the old men who have no more work to do 
in the world, we have become a burden to our chil- 
dren. 

Sarah {going to his chair and laying a hand on his 
bowed shoidder). Now don't feel bad like that, papa. 
And it ain't as though we wanted you to do anything 
wrong. {Shrewdly.) You know you wouldn't have let 
Izzy and me work on Shabbas if you thought it was so 
terrible — would you? 

Mendel. I have said nothing — but it has hurt me 
here. {Touches his breasts) Yet how could I blame 
you — you are young and your ways are different and I 
know that with other times there must be other customs. 
{Shakes his head.) But not with me — not with me. 

IsADORE {harshly). And what about me? I'm will- 
ing to do my part but It ain't right of all of you to expect 
me to do everything. If Sarah gets married and you 
don't take this job and help me out as much as you can, 

I'll — I'll {Lowers his eyes before his father* s quiet 

gaze, but finally ends sullenly.) I'm just as good as 
Sarah and I've got as much right to get ahead in the 



THE BURDEN I5 

world. (To Max.) Til do what you did. Think 
you'd be head stock man now if you'd hung around home 
and let 'em drag you down all the time? (Turns to 
Mendel.) I tell you, if you don't do your part, I won't 
stick on the job neither. A fellow can't get on quick in 
New York, anyhow — too much competition — but I'll go 
west where there's a chance for a good job and I'll get 
on, all right, with no one to hinder me. 

Sarah (contemptuously) , Stop your bluffing, Izzy — • 
we've heard that stuff before. 

IsADORE. You ain't going to hear it much longer. 
The minute you step out of that door to get married — 
and pa not making anything — I get out, too. You'll see 
whether I'm bluffing or not ! 

Sarah. I don't think you are. It's the sort of trick 
I'd expect of a selfish loafer like you. You always knew 
it was our place to look after papa, and now because this 
thing about working on Shahhas comes up, you're glad to 
ditch and 

IsADORE. Well, are you going to stick by him, then, 
since you're preaching to me? Ain't you going to ditch 
him, too? 

Sarah (beginning to waver). Me and Max won't let 
him suffer — will we. Max? (She turns to him, hut Max 
stares steadily before him, puffing on his cigar.) You'd 
want me to do my duty by papa, wouldn't you, Max? 
(A long pause.) I — I guess there ain't any way out of 
it, is there, but having him live with us ? 

Max (bruskly). I told you several times that was 
out of the question — and I meant it. 

Sarah. Then you'll have to let me help him on the 
side. (Desperately.) I ought to know something about 
sewing by this time. I'll try to do a little at home. 

Max (rising), I see myself letting my wife doing 
dress-making for the neighbors ! Think I'd have my 
friends talking about us — saying I didn't earn enough to 
keep you and maybe that you v/as helping to support 
me? Fm marrying you to look after me and the house 
and the kids when they come. So don't make any plans 
about helping your father when you know you can't do 
it. And I don't see myself handing him over a slice from 



26 THE BURDEl^ 

my pay envelope, either. I never supported my own 
parents and they needed it bad enough — and Tm not 
going to support him. I want to go ahead in the world 
and save and have money in the bank ; so I w^on't have to 
have my children fighting about paying my rent when 
Fm old and can't work no more. 

Mendel {vjho has sat with his head leaning on his 
hand). You are right, Mr. Schuman. Do not depend 
too much upon your children ; it is hard to be old and to 
feel that one is a burden. (Ends bitterly.) 

Max (touched in spite of himself). Now I didn't 
mean any offense. You don't have to be a burden — just 
take the job and every thing'll be all right. You know that 
nobody but a few back-numbers keep Shahbas in America 
any more. 

Mendel. Then I am one of the back-numbers as you 
call us. I have been a good Jew all my life and I v/ill 
die a good Jew. I have not brought up my children in 
the way that they should go, and now they are not good 
Jews and are bringing my white hairs to shame. But I 
will live and die as my father, olov hasholom, did — even 
in America I will not disgrace the law he taught me— 
even in America I will be a Jev/. 

IsADORE. Go ahead — and see what your Judaism 
brings you. I'll clear out, I tell you ! 

Max (bullying). And Sarah's not going to Vv^orry 
about you, either. Go and live with your old-timers and 
keep Shahbas with them — and see if they'll support you. 
Sarah and I won't, anyhow. 

Sarah (furiously) . No, you won't support him. Max 
Schuman. I was a fool to expect you to do anything for 
him 'cause he was my father. And Isadore won't do 
anything for him — he's glad enough of an excuse to 
break away. And it's not that I think papa's right in 
turning dovv^n a chance to help himself instead of being 
a burden on us like he's always been. I don't say papa's 
right, but we can't make him change, and we have to 
put up with him. 

Isadore (sullenly). Well, I won't. 

Max. And I tell you once for all that I won't support 
him. 



THE BURDEN 



27 



Sarah. Then Fve got to. I ain't going to ditch the 
old man. 

Max. And do you expect me to hang around and 
wait for you till the old gentleman dies and don't need 
you any more? 

Sarah. No — I can't ask that. It wouldn't be right. 
I know what a few years more of working'll do to me. 
You won't want to marry an old girl like Rosie Shapiro 
down-stairs — she's been in the shop for ten years; she's 
only six years older'n me and she looks over thirty. No, 
it's no use asking you to wait — and you wouldn't want 
me when you could get me after all the waiting. 

Mendel. But, Sarahle, I can't let you give up your 
chosan — it would not be right 

Sarah {bitterly). Don't you suppose I know it's not 
right — that I'm not giving myself a square deal? Don't 
you suppose I know I'm entitled to all that's coming to 
me — a hom.e and a husband to work for me — and, maybe, 
kids. My mother had all them things — and I've got a 
right to them, too. 

Max. Then, for God's sake, listen to reason — live 
your own life 

Sarah. And be a selfish slob like Izzy ! No — I ain't 
built that way. {With sudden bitterness.) I'll just have 
to give up all my chances so father won't have to give up 
his Shabbas. {Hides her face.) 

Mendel {in a grief-shaken voice). No, Sarah — no, 
my little girl — it is I who must give up. You are all too 
strong for me. It is best that the old should give way to 
the young. I will take the place if they will have me. 
I will no longer have my Shabbas if it makes me a burden 
to all of you. Yes, I will take the place if they will 
have me. {The reaction is too much for Sarah and she 
leans against the table shaken with sobs. Mendel draws 
her to him, smoothing her hair.) Nu, nu, Sarahle kind, 
don't cry. It is all right — see, I am not crying. Perhaps 
I did not understand. {Tries to snule.) I will still go 
to Shid on Friday night — that they cannot take from 
me — and Shabbas — since I must work on Shabbas I will 
try to keep it in my heart. 
. Max {cheerfully). Now that's the way to talk. 



28 THE BURDEN 

Why, ril even get married with a rabbi and a chuppah 
and all the rest just to please you. {Pvills out his 
watch.) Say, girlie, it's time to be going if we want 
to see the first act. We'll have to wait for our supper 
till after the show. Now put your hat on and wipe your 
eyes. 

IsADORE {grinning). And powder your nose. What 
do you want to go crying all over the place for ? 

Sarah {raising her head and laughing shakily), Fm 
acting dippy, all right. {Goes to dresser, powders her 
face hastily and pins on her hat.) I know there's no 
use crying when everything's going to come out all right. 

Max {putting on his hat). Have Sarah bring you 
down to the store to-morrow and I'll introduce you to 
the boss. I tell you you'll feel life's worth living when 
you draw your pay envelope every Saturday night. 

Mendel {patiently) , You are very good to me, Mr. 
Schuman. But you do not understand. 

Max {cheerfully). You bet your life I understand! 
You're not used to America yet — takes some folks a long 
time — just like my father. But I'd have advised my 
own father to do just what you're doing. 

Mendel {quietly, as he sinks hack in his chair), I 
think you would, Mr. Schuman. {To Sarah, who stands 
at the door, smiling radiantly.) Now you look like my 
own madelle again. Have a good time at your show. 

Max {grinning). Leave it to me! 

Sarah {still a little tremulous) . 'Bye. 

Max. Good-bye, Mr. Rabinowitz. I'll see you in the 
morning. {Follows Sarah out into the hall hut steps 
hack to add with a wink.) Oh, I almost forgot to say 
good-bye to the little brother. 

{He closes the door again, just in time to miss Isa- 
dore's explosion of wrath as he rises indignantly.) 

Isadore. The smart aleck ! It's lucky he went when 
he did or I'd have— I'd have shown him. 

Mendel {very tired). Yes, Isadore, now wash your 
hands and we will have the hrocha. 

Isadore {mumhling), 'Told you I*d washed them 



THE BURDEN 29 

once (But obeys as he passes the sink and sits left 

of the table, replacing his cap as his father murmurs the 
Hebrew blessing, bowing his head and swaying to and 
fro. IsADORE glances over the table.) Nothing fit to 

eat! Cold tea, cold potatoes, cold pickles {Opens 

covered dish.) My God, some left-over herring! Have 
to have herring for breakfast, buy it at lunch and it's 
staring me in the face for supper. And Sarah running 
off with her Max to a Roof Garden and leaving us to 
starve. {His voice rising in its whine of protest.) Yes, 
to starve. And that greenhorn of a Biederman at the 
store should wish {mimicking) God should give it I 
should be hungry some day! {Rising abruptly.) But I 
can't swallow this grub. Fm going down to Musselman's 
and see what a steak looks like. Guess Fm entitled to a 
real meal after working like a dog all day. (Mendel 
does not answer, but sits staring before him. Isadore 
lingers at the door and is vaguely touched by the lonely, 
silent figure.) Say, we ought to celebrate same as 
Sarah. Come on to Musselman's with me and TU tell 
'em to stretch that steak a little and blow you to a real 
feed. {With a grin.) You can treat me when you get 
paid next Saturday. 

Mendel. I am not hungry. I can eat this supper 
and afterward I want to do a little work. 

Isadore {sharply). Aw, you've got to drop your 
mezzuzah business — it never paid you, anyhow. 

Mendel. The little mezzuzah I started this after- 
noon — I want to finish it and buy a fine case for it and 
give it to Sarah for her, home ; perhaps she will put it up 
because I made it for her. {Heavily.) But after that — 
I will make no more mezzuzahs. One does not sell them 
in America. 

Isadore. Now you're talking sense. Well, so long. 
And don't bother to clean up the dishes. It'll do Sarah 
good to have some work to do when she comes back from 
her show. 

(Isadore leaves, slamming the door behind him. 
Mendel sits with his hands resting on the edge of 
the table, his broad shoulders sagging, his eyes half 



30 



THE BURDEN 

closed. At last he rouses himself with an effort, 
raises a citp of tea to his lips, puts it down untasted. 
Breaks off a piece of bread and crumbles it; shakes 
his head; rises slowly and carries several plates to 
the sink, his shoulders bending as though beneath an 
unseen burden. He makes the trip several times; 
then with a shrug, the old, hopeless shrug of the 
Ghetto, he pushes the rest of the dishes aside, brings 
his writing material from the shelf, and is again 
bending over his bit of parchment as the curtain 
falls.) 



Glossary 



These terms are defined for the actors. If desired, the 
EngHsh may be substituted for a few of them in the text, 
or a few, with definitions, may be printed on the program. 



Armer Yid. 

Bar Mitzvah. 

Brocha. 

Broges. 

Cheder. 

Chosan. 

Chuppah. 

Chutzpah. 

Fleishige messer. 

Frommheit. 

Gegessen. 

Gonophed. 

GOY. 
KiNDELE. 

Kinder. 
Kosher. 

Landsmann. 

Maariv. 

Madelle. 

Maseltov. 

Mezzuzah. 



Poor Jew. 

Confirmation. 

Grace before meals. 

Angry. 

Hebrew school for boys. 

Bridegroom or betrothed. 

Marriage canopy. 

Impudence. 

Knife for meat, therefore not 
to be used for butter. 

Piety. 

Eaten. 

Stolen. 

Gentile. 

Dear child. 

Children. 

Fit for food according to 
Jewish ritual. 

Countryman. 

Evening service. 

Little girl. 

Good luck. 

Piece of parchment, with 
certain verses from the 
Bible, in a tin or wooden 
case ; it is hung at the 
outer door of the ortho- 
dox Jewish home. 

31 



3^ 



6L0SSARV 



MiSHPOCHA. 

MiTZVAH. 

MlZRACH. 

Olov HASHOLOM 
OlEHA HASHOLOM 

Pfui. 

Sepher Torah. 

Shabbas. 

Shegetz. 

Shicksa. 

Shnorrer. 

Shul. 

Smoosing. 

Stuss. 

Tageblatt. 

Tisha B'av. 



.} 



Family. 

Pious duty. 

Bible picture to mark the 
east wall. 

Peace be upon him, upon 
her. 

Expression of disgust. 

Scroll of the Pentateuch, to 
be read in the synagogue. 

Sabbath, which begins Fri- 
day at sunset. 

Gentile. 

Non-Jewess. 

Beggar. 

Synagogue. 

Talking. 

Nonsense. 

The Jewish Daily News. 

Anniversary of destruction 
of the temple. 



Jl. m. Pincro'$ Plays 

Priee^ 50 petite Each 



IWin rH A NNFI ^^*y ^^ ^^^^^ ^c*»- six males, five females. 
lfflIi/-\^llrinni4JL4 Costumes, modern; scenery, three interiors. 
Plays two and a half hours. 

THE NOTORIOUS MRS. EBBSMITH l^r'R^Xl 

males, five females. Costumes, modern; scenery, all interiors. 
Plays a full evening. 

THF PUnPIIPATP Play in Four Acts. Seven males, five 
1 111:1 r SVUl LiIU/1 1 £1 females. Scenery, three interiors, rather 
•laborate ; costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. 

THF QPHnni MIQTUFQQ Farce in Three Acts. Nine males, 
ini:i iJ\/£lHJUliiflliJ i A£iiJiJ seven females. Costumes, mod- 
em; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening. 

THE SECOND MRS. TANQUERAY ^H^S^ZXi 

females. Costumes, modern; scenery, three interiors. Plays a 
full evening. 

CWPpT f AVI^NnFP Comedy in Three Acts. Seven males, 
Ovf £11:11 l^rL^f Ltl^ULttX four females. Scene, a single interior, 
ooBtumes, modern. Plays a full evening. 

Till? TMITWrbirfJRni T comedy in Four Acts. Ten males, 
inC inUilii£.£iDULl nine females. Scenery, three interi-. 
ors; costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. 

THF TIMFQ Comedy in Four Acts. Six males, seven females. 
1 ll£i 1 liTl£iiJ Scene, a single interior ; costumes, modern. Plays 
a full evening. 

TIIP WVkWQ QFY Comedy in Three Acts. Eight males, 
1111:1 ?f iJ/ll^Lili iji:i/k eight females. Costumes, modern; 
scenery, two interiors. Plays a full evening. 

A WIFE WITHOUT A SMILE ^Ztli^,f^^tAl^: 

Costumes, modern ; scene, a single interior. Plays a full evening. 



Sent prepaid on receipt of price by 

Salter ^. pafeer ^ Company 

No, 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




L 



d)e S^lUam Smarten Ctittion 
of $lapd 



AC ¥ATT I l¥V IT Comedy In FIto Aets. Ttdrteen malei, four 
JU iVU MAii II females. Ooitwnes, picturesque ; ecenerj, y»- 
wi%CL Plays a full ereuing. 

#* Alf If I V Drama in Five Acts. Nine males, fire females. Cos- 
VAiIiU<l4l4 tomes, modem i scenery, raried. ^lays a full eTenins;. 

IHIfiAM AV ^^T ^^ ^^® '^^^*- 'Hiirteen males, three females. 
lilUvIIIAA Scenery varied ; costumes, Qreek. Plays a full eyening. 

MAffT CTflAI^T Tragedy in Fire Acts. Thirteen males, four fe- 
mitlll i^IUitni males, and supernumeraries. Costumes, of the 
period ; scenery, varied and elaborate. Plays a full evening. 

TBE MERCHANT OF VENICE ^l^f-^f^^l,!:!: S'Jt^r. 

picturesque i scenery varied. Plays a full evening. 

Dim FT IFTI ^^7 ^^ ^^^ Acts. Fifteen males, two females. Been- 
niVllifMLU ery elaborate ; costumes of the period. Plays a full 
evening. 

mpiyif C Comedy In Five Acts. Nine males, five females. 
Al f ALi^ Scenery varied ; costumes of the period. Plays a 
full evening. 

SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER s>x.%i?frj:.ef IJSJtSl 

ried; costumes of the period. Plays a full evening. 

TWEFTB NIGBT; 08, WHAT TOO WILL ^''^^JSU: 

three females. Costumes, picturesque ; scenery, varied. Plays a 
full evening. 



Sent prepaid on receipt of price by 

Walttt ^. "Ba&tv & Compatif 

Ho. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetta 

■ . J. PARKHIUL • CO., PNINTBRS. SOSTON. U.S.A. 



